Remember Me
by Kirsh
Summary: As Illidan gazes down upon the broken land of Argus, his mind wanders back to his last moments on Azeroth. Within those memories, he finds the true answer to the question of why he's fighting so hard to see the Legion's defeat.


Illidan stalked the corners of the Vindicaar, looking for a place of solitude. He couldn't find one. Either there were adventurers in the places that looked suitable, or the Army of the Light stood nearby, watching him with suspicious and hateful eyes for what he had done. That memory alone brought a smile to his lips, and the demon hunter took a sick sort of pleasure in the fact that even here, where those who have fought the Legion and should know better, were more blind than he was. He didn't regret his actions. For too long he'd played the puppet, working under someone else's hand, until he finally was able to reach out and take hold of his own leash. Having freedom didn't always mean one was free, of course. How well he knew that the chains of duty bound just as tightly as ones made of steel. His freedom had been bought with a price he'd been willing to pay, and had once, all to see the Legion's downfall. To ensure the Legion was defeated for good. No one looked beyond what they saw to really see what was going on. They held onto their faith that the vaunted Light would protect them.

No, that wasn't quite true.

Illidan paused to look at a small group of Azerothian heroes, both Alliance and Horde, standing together and poring over a map of Argus, softly discussing in quiet tones what they were going to do and where they were going to do it. It was a mixture of classes and races, all working together for the same goal. They didn't have faith in some outside force to tell them what to do, when to do it, and how. They had faith in themselves and each other, trusting each other to help in times of need and stand together in the heat of battle. They fought for themselves and for others, and needed no one to tell them to do it. That was what Illidan had seen, what he believed in. That was what he'd tried to get Velen and Turalyon to realize. They could only rely on themselves and their own strength and the strength gathered around them in the form of their allies. Only they could control their own futures.

He looked down onto the broken landscape of Argus. He should be down there, securing paths for his allies, but his mind was wandering, and Argus was not a place where one's mind should wander. So he had returned to the ship. Better here than there, where at least he had the advantage of hearing someone coming up behind him. Illidan at last found a place where he was alone and he stood, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the broken homeworld of the draenei.

His thoughts wandered, and for a moment, he felt that he wasn't quite alone anymore. But he was, despite the fact he could smell her scent and feel her warmth.

He could almost hear her, too. He could imagine how she would've reacted to his murder of the naaru Xe'ra, likely laughing at the prime naaru's foolish attempt, and laughing at Turalyon for the fool's blindness which echoed her own in the distant past. He wished she were here beside him, but he knew why she had chosen to stay behind. Just as she knew why he had chosen to go. Illidan closed his eyes and allowed his most recent memory to take him back to their last moment together, before their paths diverged.

"Whining about it isn't going to make the problem go away." Maiev said. She sat astride Illidan's hips, her rugged but beautiful face staring down at him. Her hands were braced against his ribs, her thumbs gently brushing over his scars.

Illidan only muttered something pithy in response to that, his hands on her thighs. Maiev raised an eyebrow at that, but he ignored the look entirely and replied, "I'm not whining."

"You're complaining then. Either way, the problem isn't going to solve itself." "All I want is to see the Legion defeated."

"As do we all." She shifted herself, then settled more fully against him. Illidan wondered how Maiev could be so cold on the outside but an utter furnace within. It wasn't the first time they'd stolen a moment like this, but it would likely be their last, and Illidan wanted to draw it out as long as possible. Since she wasn't complaining, he decided Maiev was content with his choice. "But it isn't going to be that easy. You're going into the lair of the enemy."

"In more ways than one." Illidan rolled his hips, watched her eyes flutter closed as pleasure washed through her, and kept a slow, gentle rhythm that had nothing at all to do with stealing time but simply mutual enjoyment.

Maiev let out a soft sigh. "You'll just do what it is you always do." "And what's that?"  
"Defy the obvious authority and likely kill something."

Illidan laughed, deep and sonorous. He adjusted his hold on her thighs and allowed her to move at last, though she matched his pace for speed and tempo. Her left hand slid up his scars, caressing them as she moved to grip his shoulder. He'd half expected her to go for his throat. "Would that you could be by my side." he growled.

She gave him an arch look. "My place is here."

"Who else can I trust to watch my back long enough to stick a knife in it?"

"You'll find someone, I'm sure." Maiev replied dryly, leaning down to bite at Illidan's lips. Then she sat upright and considered her own words for a minute. "Or someone will find you. Don't worry, Betrayer. You're bound to piss off someone."

It was true and brutally honest. Maiev knew him better than anyone and she didn't hold back her opinions. Nor did she hold back on her feelings where he was concerned. Most thought her a violent, frigid bitch and they would be right in that assumption, but most never looked beyond that. It was the same with Illidan. They knew his past and what he'd done, but not the why. They didn't know what had shaped him, what drove him. Only Maiev, and she was just as content as he was to let everyone else think and assume what they wanted, so long as he and she knew the truth. Nothing else mattered.

Illidan lost himself in that memory, remembering that he'd shut Maiev up by dominating her mouth. He'd earned a snarl for that and she really did try to choke him, but he rolled them and pinned her beneath them, flaring his wings to balance himself and using his free hand to pin her arms so she didn't get a chance to claw him. He knew why their tempo changed from leisurely to rough; it was a desperate attempt to remain together, to stay connected with the only person that understood them, and a desperate need to know that, even if they were apart, they'd never truly be alone.

When they finished and Maiev lay beside him with her head on his chest, Illidan shifted to press his large hand against her belly, feeling the firmness there that only hardened his resolve. She looked up at him, but she knew better than to ask him not to leave, to ask him to be safe, to ask him if he would be returning. Illidan knew better than to offer those answers, because truthfully, he didn't know the answers, just as Maiev knew she couldn't give him the answers he wanted. All either of them could do was fight and wait and fight some more, all in the hopes of surviving long enough to see what the future would bring.

"One day at a time," Maiev said at last, shifting to rise. Illidan let her go, watching her sit up. He was surprised when she didn't stand, but rather allowed him to look at the dark expanse of her back. "Don't let them chain you, Betrayer. That's my job."

"I suppose I shouldn't let them kill me, either."

"That would be helpful, since that's the one thing I'll take the most pleasure in when I do it myself."

Illidan pushed himself upright and pressed his lips to her shoulder. Then he rose and gathered his clothes, watching Maiev do the same out of the corner of his eye. They left separately, and somehow came back together just before the Vindicaar was set to leave for Argus. They said nothing to each other for the longest time, both hearing what the other would never say or ask, because it wasn't in their nature to say the words, nor did they believe it was worth asking the questions that wouldn't be answered by them anyway. Still, Maiev rested one arm over belly, and as innocuous as the gesture was, Illidan understood it too perfectly.

"Ruin his future," Maiev growled lowly, "and I will find you and kill you myself."

Illidan bared his teeth in a vicious smile. "My dear Maiev, what makes you think you'll be able to find me?"

"I'm sure if I caused enough trouble someone would be willing to point me in your direction."

Illidan opened his eyes then and stared out onto the broken landscape of Argus. Those had been Maiev's last words to him, her plea and emotions all rolled into that one sentence. She would never see him again, she knew, unless that was somehow in the cards for them, and Illidan was more than willing to pay whatever price he had to in order to keep Maiev safe just long enough. He turned away from the window and started back the way he'd come, a new determination to his step. No, it wasn't likely he would return, and it wasn't likely that he would survive, but he knew he wasn't about to be forgotten. Maiev would make sure of that.

He flared his wings and bared his teeth, and prepared to fight not only for himself, but for the lives of those he was leaving behind.


End file.
